


The Evils of Truth and Love

by AughtPunk



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Aziraphale Adopted Adam, Aziraphale is Okay With Kids, Aziraphale is a Professor, Crowley Adopted Warlock, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Eventual Romance, First Kiss, Godparents Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens), I'll do my best to make them share a bed at some point, I'm sure Crowley isn't Evil, M/M, Pokemon, Pokemon AU, Shout out to Bulby, Slow Burn, Things like "weak to" and "stats" don't matter, This is all an excuse to give Crowley my old Bulbasaur, Turns out when your'e level 90, but not too slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 04:09:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20594474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AughtPunk/pseuds/AughtPunk
Summary: A trainer getting their first Pokémon is Important. Not only as a right of passage, but as a starting point for the long journey ahead. That first Pokémon sticks with you, in a way none of the others do. You could collect every Pokémon in the world– from a pile of trash to the Gods themselves–but none of them will ever be as important as your starter. The Pokémon you looked at and said yes, yes this one is mine. Crowley had felt that way when he first saw Bulby in Professor Oak’s lab years ago. And at that moment Warlock felt the exact same way as light shot out from the ball and solidified in front of him.(Or: On the day that both Warlock and Adam get their starters there is also a faithful encounter between a one Professor Fell and a one Just-Trying-To-Stay-Alive Crowley. Things go a bit more pear-shaped than they normally do in the world of Pokémon.)





	1. I Choose You, Massive Crush on an Angel!

Crowley had always been secretly glad his Bulbasaur had never wanted to evolve, if only because there was no way he could fit a Venusaur into the Bentley. Sure, his friends at the time (and his coworkers in the present) gave him a hard time for having a weak Pokémon. The way Crowley saw it is if Bulby was happy, then he was happy. That and it was always hilarious when he switched Bulby out for his Zoroark at the start of a battle. 

“Okay kid, what are the rules?”

“Mwwffh.” 

Crowley glanced over at the passenger seat, not too shocked to see that Warlock was playing on his phone instead of paying attention. He still wasn’t sure if getting him that phone was the best or the worst thing that’s happened in his years of Nanny-ing. Babysitting? Being paid to raise a kid because his parents got bored after they found out they had to change diapers? Crowley liked to think of himself as a Godparent. He had no idea what a Godparent actually did, but the title was pretty cool. 

One of Bulby’s vines shot out from the back seat and yanked Warlock’s phone right out of his hands. Warlock twisted in his seat, trying to grab his phone back only for Bulby to hold it right out of his reach. God, Crowley loved his little plant bastard. He cleared his throat and tried again. “The rules, kid. I need to hear them.”

Warlock let out the best preteen groan he could muster. “Don’t touch anything.”

“And?”

“Really, don’t touch anything.”

“_And?_”

“Don’t pick a fight with anyone who has Pokémon stronger than me ‘cause no one wants a repeat of what happened to Ligur at last year’s Halloween party.” Warlock said in a bored drone. Which was fake. Crowley knew Warlock loved that story with all of it’s gooey details. His favorite part was the sound Ligur’s shoulder made when the nurse popped it back into its socket. 

“Mmm-hmm. Last rule?”

“If anyone asks why I’m taking pictures I say they’re for my dumb Pokémon-crazy Nanny.” 

“Haha.” Crowley didn’t bother to tell Warlock to stop calling him that. He gave up fighting that nickname years ago. “Surprise bonus rule GO!”

“Seriously do not touch anything.” Warlock crossed his arms. “Can I have my phone back?”

Here it comes. The best part of being Warlock’s caretaker. Crowley tried to bite back a smile as he said, “I don’t know Warlock–”

“Oh no–”

“CAN you?”

Warlock threw back his head and let out the best guttural scream Crowley had heard since the last time he sprung that on the kid. “May I have my phone back? Please?”

“Dunno. What do you think Bulby?”

“Bububububub!” Bulby cackled as she dropped the phone back on Warlock’s lap. As far as Crowley knew she was the only Bulbasaur that could cackle. An impressive feat considering she only used soft bub sounds to do so. At least he had his Bulbasaur to co-parent raising the kid. God. That was a depressing thought. He’s going to need an extra drink tonight just to ease that self-blow.

After carefully illegally parking his Bentley at the perfect angle to ensure the cars in front and in back of him couldn’t get out, Crowley, Warlock, and Bulby stepped out in front of a building that looked far more like a library than a proper lab. Crowley fished out his own phone to double-check the address. “Yeah, this is the place.”

“Really?” Warlock made a face. “Looks dumb.”

“Bulba.” Bulbasaur said, agreeing. 

The three of them stared up at the building in silence together, the spell only broken when Crowley nudged Warlock in the side. “Now, what are we here for?”

Warlock rolled his eyes. “For my starter Pokémon ‘cause you won’t let me catch a wild one, even though I could totally do it–”

“Warlock–”

“Cause my Granddad would totally kill you, your Pokémon, and everything else you love and hold dear if I get hurt.” Warlock droned, already looking at his phone again.

“You know, most kids are excited to get their starter.”

Warlock shrugged. “Starters are dumb. They’re all like, soft baby Pokémon you have to use ‘til you can get a cool one. Like an Ekans!”

“You’re not getting an Ekans.” Crowley said for roughly the millionth time in his life. “And don’t let Bulby hear you call her a soft baby. She’ll never forgive you.”

“Buuuuuub.” Bulby threatened. 

“Ugh, fine. But I’m totally trading whatever I’m getting for something cooler.”

“Just stick to the plan, kid.” Warlock was going to make this trip as annoying as possible, wasn’t he? Well, Crowley thought, this couldn’t be worse than the day when he got his starter. Nothing like accidentally sleeping in late and running to the lab just to get your ass kicked by an eleven-year-old with a Charmander. 

With a shrug, Crowley walked in with Bulby and Warlock trailing behind. The inside was almost pitch-black, and had an odd musty smell Crowley couldn’t place. He could vaguely make out shelving and a few machines here or there, but nothing that screamed ‘lab’. Or occupied. Crowley walked over to a desk by the lab’s only window. Someone had left a still-steaming cup of coco on top of what he was pretty sure was important paperwork. He pushed the cup ever-so-slightly aside to get a better look. 

** _–Unknown Pokémon, mysterious sightings, psychic Pokémon reporting headaches, doomsday cult, reports of Magikarp falling out of the sky–_ **

“Hello! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize someone was here! Let me get the light!” 

A soft buzz filled the lab before the halogen lights above clicked on. They were old enough to have that odd second of weak-flickering light before it turned on properly. In that dim in-between Crowley caught sight of the man he assumed was the lab’s professor wreathed in a halo of light. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

An angel, Crowley thought, a God damned angel. 

“Bub.” Bulby nudged Crowley’s arm with her vine. It didn’t seem to do anything. 

“Hello there!” The professor said as he walked over to Crowley. Oh no, oh no, he was even cuter up close. He was wearing a bowtie. A tartan bowtie. Between that and the blonde curls, Crowley was already long gone. 

“My name is Professor Fell, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Mwuaph.” Crowley answered, sounding a lot like Warlock. He tried again. “My uh, my Godson is here for his starter. Warlock. His name is Warlock and my name is Crowley.”

“Bub!”

“And this is Bulby.”

Professor Fell’s eyes lit right up as he caught sight of the Bulbasaur doing its best to look intimidating. “My heavens! Look at you! Aren’t you a beauty? Goodness, that leaf pattern! Is she from the Kanto region? Oh, and those markings on her feet! You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Bulbasaur this old! Not that there’s anything wrong with that, my dear, none of us are getting any younger are we? And in such good shape too! Your trainer must love you a lot!”

Bubly narrowed her eyes at Crowley and somehow put on a shit-eating grin. “Bububububub.”

“Oh no.” Crowley stepped between Bulby and the Professor. “Do not compliment her! She’s already full of herself as is! Bulby, you’re a terrible Pokémon and your leaves are covered in brown spots. Keep up the poor foliage and you’ll be on a one way trip to the garbage disposal.”

“Saur!”

“Goodness,” Professor Fell said with raised eyebrows, “I’ve never seen a Bulbasaur rudely gesture with their vines before, either.” 

“Hey, where are the Pokémon?”

Warlock’s voice was enough to remind Crowley that he was there to do more than gawk at the Professor. That, and his ward had a point. What he thought were shelves in the darkness were computer servers and he couldn’t see a single pokéball anywhere. No free roaming Pokémon either. Back in the day it was unheard of, but these days more and more people walked side-by-side with their companions. 

(At least the people who had reasonably sized ones did. Maybe Professor Fall was the type to have a Wailord as a companion? Or, Crowley thought, the Professor had recently visited Lavender Town. As it were.) 

“Hmm?” Professor Fell said, as if he too just only now remembered Warlock’s existence. “Oh! Yes, I do apologize. Normally I would have some pre-selected Pokémon set out, but, well, my own Godson turned eleven today, you see. He and his friends caused bit of a ruckus so I had to put all of the Pokémon back in The Garden to calm them down. Should be alright now. I think.”

“The Garden?” Both Crowley and Warlock asked, along with a “Bub?” from Bulby.

That was apparently The Right Question as Professor Fell’s eyes lit up. “A little experiment of mine!” He shoved his hand deep into his lab coat’s pocket and pulled out a pokéball with a tartan pattern on the top half. One that matched his bowtie. Crowley might have to lay down to recover from how cute this man was. “A new type of inter-connected storage space for Pokémon! Instead of them being individually stored in a ball this allows them interact with each other while not in active use! Although it is still very early in the project life I have already seen a dramatic increase in not only the well-being of each Pokémon but in friendlier moods as well! Why, just last week I found my Grimer and Jigglypuff playing with each other! Before The Garden they refused to be out of their balls at the same time! Not to mention it’s a lot easier to carry one pokéball than six.”

Crowley looked from the pokéball, to the Professor’s glowing smile, back to the pokéball, quick stop at the bowtie, only to land on Professor Fell’s face. “Are you saying all of your Pokémon are in a single ball?”

“Not exactly. But also yes. Would you like to see?”

***

The Lab was far bigger than it looked on the outside. If Crowley hadn’t been preoccupied with Professor Fell he might have noticed that the lab was too big. Bulby had noticed, but her attempts to get her human’s attention off the soft sparkly man leading the way had been futile. She didn’t even know why she was bothering. The entire place could be on fire and he wouldn’t have noticed. Crowley’s crushes were annoying at worst and potentially dangerous at best. 

(Bulby was already dreading Warlock’s first crush. Though he and Crowley weren’t related by blood she just knew deep down he’d act the exact same way. Trying to play cool, fail at being cool, accidentally flood the Rock Gym while also somehow setting it on fire, rinse and repeat.)

Warlock at least had enough sense to keep his head down and his phone out. He didn’t notice the unusual size of the lab, but he was just a little bit sharper than Crowley to catch that something about the place was off. Shadows kept moving in the corner of his eye. He’d hear skittering behind him only to turn around and see nothing. But seeing he was an eleven year old boy (and thus too mature or cool to admit he was scared) Warlock kept his mouth shut instead of alerting the adults. In his defense neither man wouldn’t have been able to hear Warlock over the sound of their bad flirting anyway. 

“–all ‘cept his Magikarp!” 

“No!” Professor Fell replied.

“It’s true! Let them all go! I told him he was a nutter! You’re so damn close to beating the four so why stop now? You know what he did? He laughed at me! Told me not to worry about it.”

“What happened to the poor thing?”

“He won.”

“No!”

“God honest truth! He showed up a week later with a Gyarados and kicked all of their asses! Must have been a one-in-a-million chance of working and the bastard pulled it off. He’s still got his Pokémon Master certificate framed up in his office. The worst part is the League’s done everything to forget that little bit of history. Thinks it’s embarrassing.”

“Well! I suppose that’s not a shock. The League is always a bit miffed with non-traditional winners. Remember all the nasty business with that Helix Cult a few years back?”

“Oh yeah. Think I still got my false prophet t-shirt somewhere.”

Professor Fell turned a corner, leading Crowley, Warlock and Bulby to a door with a single round hole in the middle. He smiled at the odd family before taking the tartan ball out of his pocket, popping it into the hole, and pushing the door open. The rush of fresh air slipping in through the doorway was enough to grab everyone’s attention, even Warlock’s. There, on the other side of the door, was a garden. The Garden.

Brilliant sunlight poured down into a small slice of paradise. Through the doorway Crowley could see a waterfall and pond nestled into the forest of strange trees he couldn’t recognize. Nothing on the other side of the door was familiar, yet his soul cried out in the beauty of it. Flowers, berries, music in the air, his brain could barely catch up with what he was seeing. He hadn’t realized he stepped forward until Professor Fell touched his arm to stop him. 

“Steady on, dear, it’s far too dangerous for humans. We’re not meant to go inside pokéballs for a reason.” 

Crowley’s head snapped in Professor Fell’s direction. “That’s what’s inside your pokéball? An entire bloody Safari Zone?!”

“Nonsense! The Safari Zone isn’t nearly as diverse as Eden!”

“Eden?” Warlock asked, looking up from his phone for the first time since they got there.

“The Edenball! It starts for Expanded Dimension Enclosed Nurturing technology!”

Warlock made a face. “Shouldn’t that be Edent?”

“Oh. Right.” The Professor’s smile faded. “Need to work on that last word I suppose. Edent sounds terrible.”

“Bubub.” Bulby agreed.

Professor Fell closed the door and plucked the tartan pokéball out from the hole. “Now, I do believe someone here needs their starter Pokémon?”

“Yes!” Warlock shouted as he pushed his way in front of Crowley. “Yes yes yes! I want something cool!” Like, wicked badass! Something that shoots fire, and is covered in spikes, and and spits poison and is smart enough to do my homework for me and, and–”

Professor Fell cut Warlock off by placing the tartan pokéball in his hand. He gave Warlock a little ‘go on’ nod and smiled. “Just press the button and think about what you truly want in a Pokémon starter.”

Warlock looked to Crowley, who shrugged, then to Bulby, who had stolen his phone and was currently taking a selfie. Considering he was currently surrounded by three adults Warlock felt oddly alone. He pressed the button on the front of the ball and weakly said, “I choose you? Cool Pokémon?”

The pokéball lit up in Warlock’s hands. 

The world held its breath. 

A trainer getting their first Pokémon is Important. Not only as a right of passage, but as a starting point for the long journey ahead. That first Pokémon sticks with you, in a way none of the others do. You could collect every Pokémon in the world– from a pile of trash to the Gods themselves–but none of them will ever be as important as your starter. The Pokémon you looked at and said yes, yes this one is mine. Crowley had felt that way when he first saw Bulby in Professor Oak’s lab years ago. And at that moment Warlock felt the exact same way as light shot out from the ball and solidified in front of him. 

It was blue. Small. Kind of weak looking. And–

“Is it crying?” Crowley asked, finally breaking the silence. 

“A Sobble!” Professor Fell beamed, “A recently discovered water type! Be very careful, my dear boy, this one is only a few weeks old and might be a little fragile. Pick her, wait let me check, yes pick her up like this. Support her head. There we go!”

Crowley shifted uneasily as he watched Warlock stare down at the crying soft lizard-thing in his arms. His own eyes were beginning to water. Not for the first time he was glad about his always-wearing-dark-glasses habit. That being said he felt like Professor Fell was the type to not judge someone for crying at all. “Kid? You okay?” 

Warlock lifted his head, his face already covered in tears, with the largest smile Crowley had ever seen on the boy in his entire life. “She’s perfect.”

***

The ride home was thankfully free of any Sobble-related crying. It had taken all four of them to calm the poor thing down. The Sobble had been snuggled up to Warlock’s chest ever since, refusing to move an inch away from her new trainer. Crowley couldn’t help but think back to his first day with Bulby. They had spent most of that first day in the Pokécenter curled up on the floor plotting revenge against that stupid Charmander-owning kid. At least Warlock and his Sobble had a home with a nice warm bed and snacks waiting for them. 

“Think of a name yet?” Crowley asked, “one better than Bulby I hope?”

Bulby let out a grunt from the back seat. One that said hey, I like my name! My stupid, stupid name. 

“I was thinking of Sobby.”

Crowley winced. “I said better than Bulby. Better.”

“Sobby’s a good name!” Warlock lifted the Sobble up enough to look her in the eye. “What do you think, Sobby?”

“Sob!” Sobby said, the yellow fin on her head perking up. 

“See! She likes it!”

“No accounting for taste.” Crowley muttered as he parked the Bentley in front of their apartment building. “You got the pictures, right?”

Warlock shifted his arms enough to pull his phone out of his pocket and handed it over to Crowley. “Yup. Didn’t see any cameras. Maybe he’s dumb enough not to have any?”

“Or he’s smart enough to hide them.” Crowley said as he flicked through the pictures. He really needed to talk to Warlock about a future in photography. For a kid he took some dynamite pictures even if they were mostly of doors, windows and ventilation shafts. “Tonight’s too soon. I’ll give it a few days–”

“_We’ll_ give it a few days.”

Crowley lifted his head to meet Warlock’s stony gaze. “Kid–”

“Don’t you kid me! You said I could team up with you once I got my first Pokémon!” Warlock said, a hairline crack spreading through his words. “You promised!” 

Crowley sighed. He wanted to respond ‘I meant when you got a useful Pokémon’, but the last thing he wanted to do was set Sobby and Warlock off. Deep down he didn’t want to drag the kid into this. Not because of the whole ‘if he gets hurt I’m dead’ thing, but because he honestly liked Warlock. Loved him like the weird nephew he’d always wanted. He had spent the past year hoping Warlock would want to run around the world chasing dangerous monsters like the other kids his age. Or somehow end up too much of a goody-goody to walk down Crowley’s path. But he knew he had been fooling himself. Warlock was born a snake, raised a snake, and was going to fall like the rest of them. And there was nothing Crowley could do to stop it. He looked back over at Warlock only to be greeted by tears pricking the corner of the kid’s eyes. 

Warlock’s family was going to kill him. 

Seeing Warlock get hurt was going to kill him. 

Yet Crowley knew he only had himself to blame. 

_Never should have agreed to take care of Giovanni’s grandson_.

“Fine.” Crowley said, forcing the worry out of his voice. “But only because this is going to be an easy heist. If everything goes pear-shaped you need to get the hell out of there, understand? And no touching anything! We’re just going there for the Edenball and nothing else!”

“Hell yeah!” Warlock said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “One pokéball? That’s like, nothing! We totally got this! You, me, Bulby and Sobby! We’re going to be awesome!” He raised his hand up for a fist-bump. “Prepare for trouble?”

Crowley smiled and fist-bumped Warlock back. “And make it double.”


	2. Who's That Pokemon?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't heard, [I've been going through some hard times](https://aughtpunk.com/2019/11/24/in-which-i-am-very-bored-at-a-psych-ward/) and I've only just now gotten back into the swing of writing again. Thank you everyone for your patience! Also, thank you everyone so much for your kudos and comments. They always help pick me up when things get dark. Really. Love you all <3

Aziraphale may have been stretching the truth a little when he told Crowley about the mess his Godson Adam made that morning. Yes, it was true that Adam and his friends did cause a bit of a ruckus. And yes, it was also true that his Pokémon were a bit riled up and needed to calm down. What he didn’t mention was that the cause of said ruckus was the fact that when Adam tried to summon his perfect starter all of the Pokémon in the Edenball popped out.

_ All of them _ . 

His memory of what followed after Adam used the Edenball was fuzzy, but he could recall a lot of screaming of humans and Pokémon alike as the lab went from slightly mess to full. Aziraphale wasn’t a hundred percent sure how he, Adam and his friends ended up on top of one of the taller servers but was very thankful for whoever granted that little miracle. They had then spent the rest of the morning introducing Adam to each Pokémon to see if it was a good fit before putting them back in The Garden. 

(Strangely enough he caught more Pokémon than there had been in The Garden to begin with. Aziraphale had no idea where the Mr. Mime had come from and honestly he was too afraid to look into it.)

In the end the Pokémon were back into their ball and Adam had left empty-handed. Aziraphale’s poor heart ached for the boy. He knew far too well what ending your eleventh birthday without a starter felt like. Oh well. Tomorrow he would escort Adam to the next town over and ask Professor Device for help. Maybe one of the sweet bug or normal types on the way there would catch Adam’s eye! Some people just weren’t cut out for the basic starters. Which reminded him!

“Tickety-boo?” Aziraphale called out as he glanced between the computer servers. “You can come out now. The,” he paused. Dark? Mysterious? Handsome? Alluring? Charming? Absolute snack? “Nice man and his Godson are gone.” 

A shadow moved in the corner of his eye. Good, he was worried for a second that Tickety-boo had gone into the Edenball as well. 

“I was going to make myself a cup of coco and settle in for the night. Would you like a cup as well?” 

The formless shadow moved closer, still hidden within the dreary darkness of the lab. Aziraphale had found that Tickety-boo was far less skittish when the lights were low. Maybe turning them on was what gave his dear companion a fright? 

“You can have the Swanna mug.”

Aziraphale held his breath, straining his ears to pick up even a hint of sound. Nothing.

“With extra marshmallows?” 

A soft scrapping and the sound of shuffling fabric from under the desk betrayed Tickety-boo’s location. Aziraphale walked to his desk slowly, careful to keep his steps light. 

“Does that sound good to you, dear?”

From the shadows of the desk Aziraphale’s dear Mimikyu poked its fake Pikachu head out to make sure the coast was clear before stepping out into the light. Tickety-boo’s costume had seen better days for sure, but his little tartan bowtie was in as perfect condition as the day Aziraphale gave it to them. 

“Kyu!” Tickety-boo said, doing its best to sound like a proper Pikachu. A very cunning deception indeed. 

Aziraphale laughed as he lifted his oldest, dearest friend up, careful to only touch the cloth covering. There were days when Tickety-boo didn’t mind having his body touched but Aziraphale made sure to always let his buddy make the first move. “Up for a movie my dear boy? Perhaps a little light reading? Oh, there’s that documentary on the flight patterns of--”

_ Ring ring ring! Phone call phone call! _

The warbling ring of Aziraphale’s desk phone cut off his wild plans for the evening. Shuffling Tickety-Boo to one arm he picked up the receiver only to be met with the type of chaos that always came with multiple eleven-year-olds trying to use the same phone at once. His Godson won out, he always did, the the screen filled with Adam’s smiling face.

“Professor Fell!” Said Adam, followed by the drone of “Hello Professor Fell.” from his friends.

“Hello my dear boy!” Aziraphale smiled and gave a wave to Adam’s friends lurking in the background. Tickety-boo waved as well, its fear of Adam and his friends long conquered. “I’m so sorry about this morning, I know how hard it is not to get your Pokémon on your birthday, but tomorrow I thought--”

“No, It’s okay!”

“Oh, it is?”

“Yeah! I got a Pokémon on my own!”

Images of wild grass and sharp claws cleaved through Aziraphale’s memory. When Adam left empty handed he had feared the boy would be foolheartish enough to try to catch a Pokémon on his own. He wouldn’t be the first eleven-year-old to try. “Adam, you promised you wouldn’t go catching Pokémon on your own! I understand how you feel. Why, I spent the summer of my eleventh birthday wandering around the woods trying to catch a caterpie with my own two hands. But, but that’s different! There are litwicks in this area, Adam! And driftloons! And--”

On the screen Adam was moved aside and replaced by his friend Brian. “He didn’t catch the Pokémon, Professor! It came to him!”

Aziraphale paused mid-rant. “Oh?”

Now Wensleydale had the screen. “Actually the Pokémon approached all of us--”

Wensleydale let out a yelp as he was full-on pushed out of the way by Pepper. “It likes Adam the most so its Adam’s. We can’t find a collar or chip or anything on it either!”

“Oh,” Aziraphale repeated, letting his body finally relax. “I daresay Adam’s buddy found him! What type of Pokémon is it? A wooper? Vulpix? Not a Woobat is it? I don’t know if his mother would like one in the house.”

Pepper handed the phone back to Adam, whose expression was worrisome at best. “Er. We uh, we don’t know what it is.”

Now that perked Aziraphale up. Between the four of them Adam and his friends were almost as well-versed in Pokémon as he was. “Curious indeed! Let me see the dear pet, could you?”

Adam turned his phone’s camera down to the Pokémon at his feet.

The Pokémon made a noise loud enough to send Tickety-boo scampering out of Aziraphale’s arms and back into the shadows. Not that Aziraphale noticed. rather dashing red headed man from earlier could have strolled in naked and he wouldn’t have noticed. He took a deep breath and prayed his voice didn’t shake.

“I’ll be there right away. Don’t. Move.”

***

Aziraphale had no idea what Adam’s Pokémon was.

Adam’s Pokémon was not a Houndour. Nor an Growlithe, or Electrike, or Lillipup, or Furfrou. The closest Aziraphale could find in his Pokédex was a Poochyena, but that wasn’t it either. At one point he sent Adam and his friends back to the Lab to grab some of his older Pokédexes just to see if any of them would give him a clue. Pepper, what a smart girl, thought to bring a few old textbooks that pre-dated Pokédexes with them too. Aziraphale thumbed through the pages of poorly drawn Pokémon in search for an answer to the question slobbering on his feet.

“Oh!” Brian pointed down at Aziraphale’s shoes. “I think it’s performing an attack!” 

“Is it acid?” Pepper asked, “Are your feet burning? Or is it a poison attack? Gasp! Professor Fell, are you poisoned?”

“Actually, I think it’s just drooling.” Wensleydale replied.

Adam, who was sitting next to the mystery creature, reached over and gave it a good tummy rub. “He wouldn’t attack anyone! He’s just a good boy, isn’t he?”

Aziraphale also had no idea if it was a boy or a girl. The Pokédex, all of the Pokédexes, just made an error noise when he tried to scan it. He reached the last page--which, like all good texts from the time ended on a very long rant about PokeGods--and shut the book. “Well. That’s the end of my personal resources. Might have to ask around for help on this one. Professor Gabriel may know something, he’s bit of an expert on shinies.” 

The got Adam to perk up. “You think it’s a shiny?”

“It...may be a very rare shiny mutation of some sort. Or perhaps a new crossbreed? Yes, that might explain the uh, speech problem it has.”

Pepper nodded her head solemnly. “Miss Device said that unregistered Ditto crossbreeds are at risk of physical defects and how so many unwanted Pokémon are abandoned as a side effect of illegal shiny breeding,  _ Adam _ .”

“Sorry.” Adam said sincerely before turning back to his Pokémon, “and I have no plans to abandon you, okay?”

Right on cue the mystery Pokémon lifted its head and said “Ruuur?” 

(That was the other issue Aziraphale had. He couldn’t pin down the Pokémon’s name at all. Arrooorawufbark? Woofoof? Ruuuuueeerrrrr? No matter how many times he arranged the sounds in his head none of them sounded like an actual name.)

“Now Adam,” Aziraphale said in his best Serious Grown-up voice, “this Pokémon might already belong to someone. We have to check-in with the local Pokécenter and contact the authorities to make sure no trainers have reported any lost Pokémon.”

The children let out a unified sad whimper. 

“None of that! We’ll go to the Pokécenter first thing tomorrow and get everything cleared up. I’ll go talk to all of your parents for permission first, of course.”

Adam picked up the Pokémon and held him close, not caring in the least about any touch-attacks it may have. “Can I at least keep him with me tonight?”

Aziraphale paused. He knew that allowing a child to hold onto a mystery Pokémon was not responsible at all. Yet the creature really did seem harmless, and Tickety-boo was  _ still  _ in hiding. Poor thing was more terrified than usual. And Adam did miss out on getting a proper starter for his birthday, didn’t he?” “I suppose. But if it does anything out of the ordinary I want you to call me right away!” 

“I promise.” Adam stood up and grinned at the Pokémon in his arms. 

Oh, Aziraphale hoped the Pokémon didn’t belong to anyone. He knew that look on Adam’s face very well. The look of yes, yes you’re the one. Another perfect trainer-Pokémon match done by Professor Fell. Just like the boy from earlier that day with his Sobble. Come to think of it, the boy’s rather handsome Godfather had worn that exact same look on his face too. But a bit different, something more akin to--

Aziraphale cursed very loud in front of the group of children as he realized that said handsome Godfather had been checking him out far, far after the fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kudos, your comments, and your encouragement! 
> 
> If you enjoy my writing please check out my other fics or head to [my website](https://aughtpunk.com/want-to-help-out/) for information on my non-fic writing and how to help me out. 
> 
> Be sure to tag me as @AughtPunk on [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/aughtpunk) [Tumblr,](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com) or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/AughtPunk) if you want to say hi, or ever make any fan content of my work. No need to ask permission, art and fic is always welcomed!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for your kudos, your comments, and your encouragement! 
> 
> If you enjoy my writing please check out my other fics or head to [my website](https://aughtpunk.com/want-to-help-out/) for information on my non-fic writing and how to help me out. 
> 
> Be sure to tag me as @AughtPunk on [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/aughtpunk) [Tumblr,](http://aughtpunk.tumblr.com) or [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/AughtPunk) if you want to say hi, or ever make any fan content of my work. No need to ask permission, art and fic is always welcomed!
> 
> \- Fish


End file.
